


The Nothing and What Comes After

by Aria_Lerendeair



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF!Gabriel, BAMF!Sam, Coda for 11x17 promo, Death being vaue, Implied Character Death & Ressurection, M/M, Sam is a smart cookie, The Nothing, Where Billie says she'll take Sam and Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 08:58:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6368344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_Lerendeair/pseuds/Aria_Lerendeair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billie the Reaper told Sam that when he and Dean died they would be brought to the nothing.  Now as he faces that death, and experiences that nothing...</p><p>What comes afterward?  </p><p>Turns out he's not as alone as he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Nothing and What Comes After

**Author's Note:**

> So this was inspired by the preview for 9x17, assuming that Sam is shot, dies and Billie reaps him to the Nothing and he finds some stuff there, namely some angels there.

 

The last thing Sam feels is pain.

 

The last thing Sam sees is his brother, shouting at Billie, begging her to stop, not to reap him, to let him live. He remembered her promise, where he would be taken.

 

His last thought is regret, because he promised Dean he’d be the one to end Amara, and now he’s let his brother down _again_. He never could do anything right, and now Dean’ll have to fight when he’s been compromised.

 

Soon none of it matters, because Billie’s hand is reaching for him and then everything is darkness.

 

Darkness. How _fitting_.

 

~!~

 

Sam knows what death feels like. What the pain and fire of Hell, of the cage feel like. He also, however briefly, knows the feel of heaven. The warm, soft glow that’s like being wrapped in the arms of someone who loves you and is willing to hold you tight until the nightmares fade.

 

This is like none of that. It was exactly what Billie had promised. It was _nothing_.

 

He could feel nothing, hear nothing, taste nothing, smell nothing, _see_ nothing.

 

Time had no meaning here.

 

If this was what Amara hoped to consume the world with, Sam could see the appeal. Because there is _nothing_.

 

Nothing is a comfort, for a time.

 

Hours or months pass, Sam doesn’t know.

 

But the guilt returns and he burns with it. It’s a feeling where there is no feeling. Hot shame, running through him, awareness that he has failed his brother, the one person he never wants to fail, and yet always does.

 

He relishes the pain of guilt, because it is something other than _nothing_.

 

More time passes.

 

The hot burn of guilt fades into the liquid feel of regret. It’s more subtle than the burn. It lingers far longer. So many have died for him, hurt because of him. His brother most of all.

 

Sam tries to focus on them, on their names. Because here, memory will fade into nothing, and then he will be left with the truest version of nothing, until he fades away and is no more.

 

That is what happens to those who are sent here. He can feel it now, pulling at him, small pieces breaking away, his memories falling victim to the lack of sight, sound and touch. Once he loses himself, he too will be gone. Will be nothing.

 

 _Bobby_.

 

A memory. Gruff laughter, cuffs to the head that are gentle, loving almost. When the end of the world came he was there, standing by their side, calling them idiots until his last breath.

 

 _Dad_.

 

Arguments, anger, fighting. He would be disappointed. Dean was the one deserving of his pride, his acceptance. He always had been.

 

 _Jess_.

 

An innocent death. His fault. The start of this long, never ending spiral that only got worse and worse as the years went by. He misses her as one misses a fond memory. She was his hope once, but even that was lost.

 

 _Mom_.

 

A mother he never knew. Teased, mocked by her memory. Dean holding her tight because he remembers her hugs, Sam staring at her, wishing for the smallest hint of a remembrance that would never come.

 

So many mistakes, so much regret. It fills him in the way only a liquid can until he is brimming with it, consuming every single part of his soul.

 

 _Cas_.

 

An angel. At least his brother would be safe, perhaps. But no. Cas is gone, controlled by Lucifer. Again, his fault, for entering the cage. Another death at his hands, at Lucifer’s. Just like…

 

 _Gabriel_.

 

The rage resurfaces for an instant, white hot and Sam is almost sure that he sees something, what that is, he doesn’t know, but the rage is gone quickly enough under the regret. An archangel died for him. What had he done to honor that death? Nothing. Never anything.

 

The regret lingers, and broadens.

 

 _Dean_.

 

 ** _Dean_**.

 

He cries out, but there is no noise. Not here.

 

Dean is not one memory, but a thousand. A thousand laughs, shared smiles, and shouting matches. Dean is at once both young and older, blending together as the memories swarm him. Every memory he has ever shared has Dean attached in some manner.

 

Sam tries to focus on all them and focuses on none of them.

 

As they fade, Sam feels the nothing eating into him again.

 

He’ll be gone soon. Part of the nothing.

 

He floats again, time slipping by, or maybe crawling by. It doesn’t matter any longer.

 

Sam thinks and tries to remember. To keep himself for as long as he can. He thinks of the soul eater. A nest that is a place outside time. Perhaps that is what the nothing is, what the darkness is.

 

A place outside time.

 

**A fitting place for immortal beings to go when they die.**

 

He doesn’t know what spurs the thought, or where it comes from. But once it’s there, it’s different from the rage and regret. It’s not all consuming and pain.

 

It’s a spark. A _question_.

 

Where do angels and archangels go when they die?

 

They return to nothing.

 

This _is_  nothing.

 

Are they here? Have they fallen victim to the same nothing that wants to consume him? The spark, and Sam knows this emotion, he does, it’s driven him since he was young. Curiosity makes the questions come faster.

 

Are the angels here? Is this where angels go to die? Where are the angels? Why can’t he see or hear them? Can they see him? Where are they? Why haven’t they appeared? Why don’t they fight the nothing?

 

Questions, curiosity consumes him, the spark turns to a flame. It is not a flame of pain, not like the rage and anger. It is a demand for _answers_.

 

If this, this _nothing_ is where angels go when they die…

 

Cas. A memory. Unsure of how he lived again. He died. Was brought back. By-

 

“Well done, Sam.”

 

A voice, after _nothing_ for so long is overwhelming. Sam wants to run, to hide, but the curiosity, the demand for answers is louder, answering for him, reaching for the voice.

 

He needs answers. He needs to know. He needs questions, because without questions he will-

 

~!~

 

Sam sat up in bed, nearly falling over the edge as he flailed for a gun that wasn’t there. His chest heaved and he felt the stretch of the muscles on his chest, the sound of the inhalation and the feel of oxygen in his lungs.

 

He exhaled when he couldn't hold it in any longer.

 

“Hello, Sam.”

 

Sam knew that voice. He opened his eyes and stared into the face of Death, who was smiling at him. “Hello,” he managed, his voice hoarse from disuse. How long had he floated in nothing?

 

“I imagine you’re wondering where you are and why you are not back in the nothing,” Death said, leaning back in a chair.

 

Sam raised an eyebrow and stood up properly. “Among other things, yes.”

 

Death nodded towards the window. “Look out there, Sam. Who do you see?”

 

Sam looked out and his breath caught at the bright figures in the sky. He recognized angels immediately, both good and bad, suspended in the night’s sky, light shining around them. “ _Angels_.”

 

“Angels and archangels, yes,” Death said, studying Sam. “Some have been trapped there since the war with Lucifer. Hundreds of millennia and they have not escaped as you have.”

 

“How did I escape?” Sam asked, turning to look at Death. “I remember the memories, and they faded and then…”

 

Death tapped his walking stick thoughtfully. “Those who know how the nothing works know how to enter and leave it at will, myself included. The nothing is for _angels_ , Sam. Angels, who, despite having what they need to escape, never choose to utilize.”

 

“Free will?” Sam asked, glancing back out at the window.

 

Death shook his head. “No. _Curiosity_ , Sam.” He settled back in his chair. “That last thought. About immortal beings. Perhaps it’s because you are not one that the thought spurred a different reaction in you. If an angel were to think that…”

 

“They would just think it fitting,” Sam said, swallowing hard. “But because I’m not-”

 

“Your question created a spark, which turned to an inferno as you asked and demanded answers,” Death said, giving him a nod. “Billie, while she knows of this place, and knows how to enter and exit herself, did not imagine you would be able to live through the stages you pass in the nothing. She underestimated what the pain of the cage taught you.”

 

Sam gave a hoarse laugh. “Thank you? I think?”

 

Death nodded. “It is why Castiel never stayed here, either. God brought him back from here, where we are now, but you have to escape the nothing yourself. You cannot be saved from it.”

 

Sam looked back up at the angels who were trapped in the sky, in the nothing. “It’s a cage of their own making, isn’t it?”

 

“One of my more clever ideas, to be sure,” Death agreed. “Those angels who learn curiosity, to not accept a statement at face value, well, they escape the nothing, even though they do not go back to your plane.”

 

“Where do they go?” Sam asked, looking around the room they were in. He and Death were alone, for now.

 

“Where we are. On a plane of existence where time does not matter, and where our existence, while not nothing, is limited,” Death said, smiling.

 

“How did Cas get back?” Sam asked.

 

Death hummed and tapped on his walking stick again. “I have already answered that question.”

 

“Right, right, sorry, God brought him back,” Sam said, shaking his head. He pushed his fingers through his hair, his mind whirling. He looked up at Death again. “How do I get back?”

 

“Do you want to go back?” Death asked, tilting his head.

 

Sam opened his mouth to answer immediately and paused. Death was waiting for his answer but Sam got the feeling that this was a test of some sort. He remembered the last two times he had seen Death. One had been when he was ready to die. The next had been when Dean had picked him over the world.

 

“I want to stop the darkness,” Sam said instead, meeting Death’s eyes.

 

“If I told you that you could do it from here, while technically dead, would you believe me?” Death asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

Sam nodded. “I do believe you.”

 

Death nodded and tapped on his cane. “But you wish to return. Your soul has found new purpose, compared to when we spoke last. You are no longer ready.”

 

Sam swallowed hard and nodded. “We have, we have a legacy, now. Dean and I. The Men of Letters. There’s, there’s so much I want to do and see and understand about those-”

 

Death held up his hand. “I cannot take you back. While not condemned to the nothing, I am trapped here until my counterpart chooses to release me.”

 

Sam blinked. “Counterpart?”

 

Death stood up and brushed lint off his sleeves. “As you humans say, there are two sides to every coin, Sam. I am no exception. I shall give you your way out. It is up to you to take it.”

 

Sam watched Death leave the room, the door open behind him. The house was quiet now and Sam waited for whatever his way out was supposed to be. He guessed that maybe ten minutes had passed before he decided to take a deep breath and leave the room.

 

The rest of the house was empty, and Sam figured he probably had to venture outside. There was no sun, but wherever he was was lit. Overhead he could see the angels, and the light surrounding them that was slowly being eaten away by the nothing. Perhaps that’s where the light came from.

 

“Sad, aren’t they?”

 

Sam froze and spun around, scowling when he didn’t see anyone. He knew that voice. Knew it far better than he thought he would have. “What are you doing here?”

 

Gabriel appeared in front of him and shrugged. “The angel part of me was killed when Lucifer stabbed me, with my own angel blade, the sick fuck.”

 

“So you were stuck here?” Sam asked, looking up at the angels trapped in the nothing.

 

“Yes,” Gabriel said, looking up at them. “Until the spark. You were faster than I. Faster than anyone who didn’t know the secret.”

 

“Spark?”

 

Gabriel hummed, nodding. “Yeah. _Curiosity_. The trick is to ask a question, really. When you don’t have answers, when you have some purpose, even though it’s a simple answer to a question, you are released from the nothing.”

 

“Why?” Sam asked.

 

Gabriel shrugged. “No idea. I just know that’s how it works.”

 

Sam nodded and looked up at the nothing again, where the angels were trapped. “What was your question?”

 

Gabriel didn’t answer, instead he looked back to Sam. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is what you are going to do next.”

 

“Where are we?” Sam asked, looking around. There was a house behind him and what looked like a large, open field behind him.

 

“Think of it kinda like the pocket dimension I stuck you bozos in. It’s a place outside reality and time, it exists when and how it needs to. Looks different now that you showed up,” Gabriel said. “More like earth. Before it looked different, because it was just Death and I.”

 

Sam frowned and turned to Gabriel. “Are you trapped here?”

 

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “You’re smarter than you look.”

 

“How do we get out? Death told me that you were the way out,” Sam said, scowling. Fucking hell, of course he’d been given some sort of cryptic mission.

 

Gabriel shrugged again. “I don’t even know how I got here or where “ _here_ ” is. How the hell would I know how to get out? And don’t you think that I would have left long before now?”

 

Sam scowled and paced a few steps away from Gabriel and stared up at the sky. If you had to be brought here by Death, and by the Reapers, or God, and they were the ones who knew out to leave…

 

“Want to clue me in on what you’re thinking so damn hard about?” Gabriel asked as Sam paced in front of him.

 

Sam looked over his shoulder and glared at Gabriel. “I’m trying to figure out how the fuck to get us out of here!”

 

Gabriel laughed. “You think you can figure it out when I couldn’t? Sure, have at it, and good fucking luck!”

 

Sam’s fingers itched to turn the page in a book, but he would have to do this. If the secret to escaping the nothing was simple, then the secret to getting out of where they were had to be simple as well, and Death had already told him he would need Gabriel’s help.

 

“All right,” he muttered. “If you can only be brought here by Death, Reapers and God, and it was designed as an...afterlife of sorts for angels and archangels, and they’re the only ones who know how to leave, what does that say?”

 

“That they’re sick fuckers who like seeing angels get tortured for an eternity?” Gabriel offered.

 

Sam blew out a breath and tried to keep the smile down. “Well, I won’t disagree. But it tells me that you need to have someone or something that knows how to hop in and out of dimensions in order to get in and out of here.”

 

Gabriel opened his mouth and then snapped it shut a second later. “Well, _fuck_.”

 

“ _Right_ ,” Sam said, pushing his fingers through his hair. “Now, I don’t exactly have experience designing alternate universes, but I bet, when you did create them, you had backdoors. So you could slip in and out whenever you wanted. Like when you put Cas somewhere when you trapped us in TV Land.”

 

Gabriel stared at Sam and gave a low, impressed whistle. “Well _damn_. Someone was paying attention.”

 

“It’s my job,” Sam snapped, glaring at Gabriel for a minute. “It keeps you alive. You either pay attention to the small shit or you get killed. That’s how we caught you, after all. And where we found the holy oil,” he said, then winced in remembrance.

 

“So, there’s a secret door people know how to find, that’s around here somewhere, that we need to find to get back,” Gabriel said, looking around. “We’re still boned.”

 

Sam frowned and paced again, looking up at the light of the angels, of the ones that were nearly faded. “If curiosity, a simple question was what is needed to escape the nothing…” Sam said, trailing off.

 

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Implying what?”

 

“That the way out of here is just as simple,” Sam said, walking back towards the house.

 

“Sam?” Gabriel called.

 

Sam stopped in the living room and took a deep breath. The house, the field, the grass was only here because it was what _he_  would expect to see and need. It had been different with Gabriel and Death here. Which meant that if he didn’t need it, this would be gone too.

 

He took a deep breath and focused. What did he need? He needed to get back to Dean. To help him fight the darkness. To save the world again.

 

When Sam opened his eyes, the last of the house was melting away and Gabriel was standing next to him, his eyes wide in shock. “I was right.”

 

Gabriel stared around at the gray world they were in. “You were right about what? How did you do that?”

 

Sam grinned, bright and wide. “I know how to get us out of here. And that stuff was only here because I wanted it to be. I don’t want it to be now. So it’s gone.”

 

“How the hell do you know how to get us out of here?” Gabriel growled, looking around them.

 

“I have something I need to do,” Sam said, looking straight in front of him. “I can see the path now. But I can’t cross dimensions, so you have to see it too.”

 

Gabriel blinked in shock. “That’s...that’s _it_?”

 

Sam smirked. “Apparently having something you need to do is enough to get yourself out of here.” He held out his hand to Gabriel and waited for the archangel to take it. “And now you’ve got something you need to do too.”

 

“Do I?” Gabriel asked, clenching tight to Sam’s hand.

 

“Yeah,” Sam said. “You need to get us both out of here in one piece and get me back to Dean. And maybe even help us find a way to stop the darkness, since you were around the first time that happened.”

 

Gabriel blew out a breath he didn’t need and watched a path appear in front of him. “Well holy _fuck_ , would you look at that.”

 

Sam grinned again and raised an eyebrow. “Guess that we needed each other, huh?”

 

“Yeah, Sasquatch, I guess we did,” Gabriel agreed, letting his wings fall from his back before he wrapped Sam up in his arms and flew. It was easy, slipping between dimensions, through the path that led back to the nothing, along the bright and lit path that led to earth.

 

When he landed again, in a hotel room, the weight and power of earth and heaven settling back over him, Gabriel stretched and relaxed. “Holy _shit_ it’s good to be home.” The sound of a cocking gun made him turn to look at Dean Winchester.

 

“Gabriel?! What the fuck are you doing here?” Dean snarled, his hand shaking for a moment before he forced it to steady.

 

Gabriel stuffed both of his hands into his pockets and looked at the body on the bed. One that had suffered a gunshot wound by the looks of things. “Here to repay a favor. And bring you a present.”

 

“What the-”

 

Gabriel waved a hand and cut off Dean’s voice, walking towards Sam’s body. He sat down on the edge of the bed and healed Sam with a quick touch. He looked up at where he could see Sam’s spirit, hovering on the edge of the bed. “Let’s go, you’re all good.”

 

“Dean, what is wrong?” Castiel said, appearing in the room a second later.

 

Sam coughed and sat up. “I’m having terrible flashbacks, Gabriel, please don’t stick us in TV Land again. You owe me. Now give Dean his voice back.”

 

Gabriel gave Sam a grumpy look and snapped up a chair that he could flop into. “I don’t like that you’re right.”

 

“Sam!” Dean shouted, leaping for the bed, wrapping his brother in his arms. “You’re, I thought, that reaper-”

 

Sam chuckled and wrapped his arms tight around Dean. “I’ll have some new and interesting nightmares after that, but I’m all right,” he said, looking up at Cas.

 

Castiel approached the bed, his angel blade carefully held up his sleeve as he moved to stand beside Gabriel. “Sam, the nothing-”

 

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “That made the cage look like children’s play.”

 

Dean pulled back and stared at Sam. “What the hell is the nothing?”

 

“It’s where angels and archangels go to die,” Gabriel said, studying his fingernails. “Unless you know how to get out, like baby bro and I do, now.”

 

Castiel didn’t say a word, he merely looked down at the floor when Dean turned to stare at him. “I am sorry, Sam. That is not an experience I would have ever wished for you.”

 

Sam stared at Cas for a long moment. “Cas, what did you ask?”

 

Castiel cleared his throat and shook his head. “It does not matter. We need to figure out what we’re going to do about Amara.”

 

Gabriel shook his head and leaned back in the chair. “There’s no way you’re going to stop her on your own. It took Dad, Michael, Luci, Raph _and_ me to contain her. And that’s not even beat her. That’s _contain_ her.”

 

“Does her cage still exist?” Sam asked, lifting himself up and off the bed.

 

Gabriel held up a finger. “You are not a one-trick pony. That won’t work.”

 

Dean groaned. “What about one of the Hands of God that keep popping up? Would those work against her?”

 

Gabriel looked from Dean to Castiel. “What are they talking about?”

 

“Objects that have been directly touched by God, and are therefore blessed with his power. We could use those as a weapon against Amara,” Castiel said.

 

Gabriel tapped on his jaw. “We need Dad if we’re going to have a chance.”

 

Castiel shook his head. “I’ve looked-”

 

“Have you _called_?” Gabriel asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Why do you say it like that?” Sam asked, looking at Gabriel.

 

Gabriel stood up from the chair and put his hands on his hips. “You know all of the shit in your bible about choirs of angels singing his praises and shit?”

 

“Yeah,” Dean said. “What’s that got to do with God?”

 

“Everything!” Gabriel snapped. He turned back to Castiel. “You looked for him, I’m sure all of Heaven did, but did any of you ever try to _call_ him?”

 

Castiel stared at Gabriel. “You were the only one who knew how. When you disappeared…” he trailed off.

 

Gabriel scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Michael and Raph knew how to call him just as…” he stopped and pressed his hand to his face. “But Dad would have interfered with their plans for paradise. And if they didn’t teach anyone, the secret _would_ have died with them.”

 

He stared up at the ceiling. “Which means, because time doesn’t pass the same way for him like it does for any of us, human or angel, he likely has no idea what the hell is going on right now.”

 

“You’re _shitting_ me,” Dean said, staring at Gabriel. “You could have called him this whole time!”

 

“I was in hiding!” Gabriel snapped. “I didn’t want to announce myself to the entirety of heaven, which is what _would_ happen if I did the call!”

 

“What about now?” Sam asked, taking a step towards Gabriel. “If having him back is the only way we’re going to trap Amara again…”

 

Gabriel sighed and stared up at the sky. “She will hear it.”

 

Sam looked over to Dean. “It’s the best idea we’ve got right now.”

 

Dean nodded.

 

Castiel stepped closer to Dean. “Sam, Dean, stand behind me. I’ll protect you.”

 

Sam frowned, but did as he was asked, standing behind Cas. “Protect us from what?”

 

Gabriel took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “ _Me_. He also has to answer my call.”

 

Dean stepped behind Castiel as well and dropped one hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “This won’t hurt you, right Cas?”

 

“No,” Castiel shook his head, turning to stare at Gabriel, who was starting to glow. “Both of you keep your eyes closed, and place your hands over your ears.”

 

Sam nodded and did exactly that, cutting off as much noise as he could as he crouched behind Castiel.

 

The sound that rocked through him a moment later pulled at his soul. It was a single, despairing note, at impossible volumes, and he could feel his ears bleeding, the blood seeping through his fingers as he pressed his hands tighter to his ears. He could see the light of Gabriel even through his shut eyes.

 

Another note, a lower one, but still similar sounded and Sam knew it was Castiel’s answer. The two sounds joined together and it became deeper, broader, turning into a song, the notes changing and flowing. The sadness was still there though and Sam could feel it, and he knew that God wouldn’t respond to this.

 

He kept his ears and eyes clenched shut and he stepped out from behind Castiel. A warning note from the lower voice made him halt and he could feel the heat as well as the light now. But the sadness was overwhelming. It needed balance. Two sides of the coin, Gabriel needed the other side.

 

Sam moved through the heat emanating off of Gabriel, step by slow step until the archangel was in front of him. His skin was hot and he was barely breathing through the weight of the heat and the light. He had to, had to get to Gabriel. He took one more deep breath and dropped his hands from his ears.

 

The sound was deafening and he stumbled, but he reached out and wrapped his arms around the blurred light in front of him. He could feel Gabriel’s physical vessel and the pain of the call from the noise, the fear that crept into the call. Sam tightened his hold and reminded himself that if he had survived the nothing, he would survive this.

 

He opened his mouth and started to sing. The call faltered, so Sam sang louder and pressed himself closer to the light that was burning him with the touch. It was a song Dean had been singing him since he was a kid, a song for when he was sick and hurting, it was a song of love and hope.

 

Slowly, the call changed. Instead of the fear and sadness, it brightened. He could hear what sounded like the ringing bells of laughter and Castiel’s enthusiastic response. Gabriel’s call shifted again, this time twining around Castiel’s until they blended together in a true harmony. Sam held onto the light tighter, clinging to Gabriel’s vessel as the song brightened and deepened. Other voices were joining Gabriel’s call. They were quiet at first, but together, they cried out for an absent father. They knew despair and they knew joy.

 

He didn’t know how long the call went on for, but when the last note faded, Sam realized he was probably burnt and bleeding and that wasn’t a good thing. He closed his eyes and sagged against Gabriel.

 

“Woah, woah, kiddo, I gotcha, hold on,” Gabriel said, pressing his fingers to Sam’s head, healing him after that stunt. “Next time warn me when you’re gonna pull that.”

 

Sam chuckled, still leaning against Gabriel. Now there wasn’t any pain, but he really didn’t feel like moving away from Gabriel. “You needed help.”

 

“Is Sam okay?” Dean croaked, climbing up from where he’d fallen to his knees. “What the hell happened?”

 

Castiel turned and offered his hand to help Dean upright. “Sam will be fine. Somehow he knew Gabriel’s call wouldn’t be enough, and he helped to change it.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean said, closing his eyes. He could hear the last of ‘Hey Jude’ still fading from the call. “I heard it.”

 

“Good thing he did, or the call never would have reached me,” A voice called from the other side of the room. “He gave it a serious power boost.”

 

Sam turned and nearly fell, glad when Gabriel caught him with an arm around his waist. He leaned a little heavier on Gabriel and decided that the archangel could handle it. “Chuck? What are you doing here?”

 

Castiel sat up taller, his eyes wide as he stared. “That is not the prophet Chuck.”

 

“What?” Dean said, looking between Cas and Chuck. “Yeah it is. You know him.”

 

Gabriel coughed into his hand and cleared his throat. “Right. _Well_. It isn’t anymore. Sam, Dean, Cas? Meet God, our Dad.”

 

Chuck smiled and gave a sheepish wave. “Hey guys. Heard you needed help.”

 

Sam looked over at Dean and raised an eyebrow. “We need alcohol first,” they said in unison.

 

“Amen to that,” Chuck said.

 

Dean groaned. “Seriously?”

 

“Where do you think Gabriel gets his sense of humor?” Chuck asked.

 

Sam turned to look at Gabriel, who still had a firm grip on his waist. “You did it.”

 

Gabriel looked up at Sam and swallowed hard at the wide smile he was being given. “Thanks to you.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Sam said, giving a shrug. “Apparently my new role in life is to help you figure shit out.”

 

Gabriel snorted and rolled his eyes. “Complaining already?”

 

Sam smiled and wrapped an arm around Gabriel’s waist, giving him a slow squeeze. “Nah. Think I’m getting used to it.”

 

“Oi! Stop making eyes at each other, we’ve got planning to do!” Dean said, glaring at Sam and Gabriel.

 

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Time to save the world?”

 

“After you, _dearest_.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Criticisms welcome!
> 
> You can find me here: 
> 
> [Aria-Lerendeair ](http://aria-lerendeair.tumblr.com/)
> 
> You can also watch me write fics like this (and dozens of others) live! Follow me on Livestream for fics, shenanigans and a general all-around awesome time! http://new.livestream.com/accounts/7212317


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